


Just Like Old Times

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Mentions of strippers, hungover!Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: Gabriel and Balthazar are unexpectedly reunited. Mistakes are made.





	Just Like Old Times

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr

Gabriel’s first thought when he came to was  _Ugghhhhh_.

His second thought was a profound desire to smite whoever thought hitting up every club on the Las Vegas Strip would be a good idea. He conveniently ignored the fact that, oh yeah, it was him. His head felt like someone used it to break down a door or twenty and his mouth reeked of stale alcohol and regret. He forced one eye open the tiniest bit, bright noonday sun immediately stabbing him in the retina. With a loud groan, he sloooowly rolled onto his side, taking note of the fact he was clothed only in a toga made of bed sheets. Cradling his aching head, he stumbled to his feet cautiously. Hearing someone chuckling to his left, Gabriel turned as quickly as he could (which wasn’t very) to face a relaxed looking Balthazar, tumbler of scotch already in hand. **  
**

“Well, don’t you look like something that crawled out of purgatory. What’s the matter, brother, was last night a little too much to handle? Age is catching up with you,” Balthazar mocked from behind his glass.

Gabriel made a halfhearted attempt at responding, grumbling something unintelligible in Enochian. It’d been a long time since he’d gotten this drunk and with his depleted grace, the hangover was a hundred times worse. His foggy head couldn’t understand how Balthazar got off so lucky and he said as much.

“Because, brother dear, you can’t get hungover unless you stop drinking,” Balthazar quipped, holding up his glass pointedly.

Gabriel had to concede that he had a point. In a pained whisper, he asked, “What exactly happened last night? The last thing I remember was wearing a sombrero and trying to do cartwheels in the club.”

“You did one successfully. Then smashed into the wall. I have to say, the strippers found it  _hilarious_. By the way, you owe the owner of the club for repairs. You left a sizable hole in the side of the building. And wasn’t that fun trying to explain,” Balthazar mused. He took another sip of scotch, studying Gabriel. They’d run into each other quite by accident, both still hiding from Heaven. He hadn’t seen his elder brother in ages, since Gabriel left home. Of course, once he’d followed in the archangel’s footsteps and skipped out on the Host, he heard rumors here and there of Gabriel’s presence on Earth.

He supposed it really wasn’t surprising that he ran into Gabriel in the middle of a stint of binge sinning in Vegas. What did surprise him was finding his brother in almost as bad shape as he himself was; over many, many drinks, Balthazar managed to work out what happened to deplete Gabriel’s grace to such an extent. It hadn’t shocked him to learn about Lucifer’s attempt on Gabriel’s life; it seemed attempted murder from a brother was something else they had in common.

Gabriel lowered himself to sit gingerly on the chair next to Balthazar, primly arranging the folds of his toga. Now that his eyes didn’t feel like they were going to burst into flames, he could see that he was a in a hotel suite, a riotous mess all around. Curtain drapes clung to the windows for dear life, bedding was strewn about the rooms, and his shoes dangled by their laces from the curtain rod. Whatever he couldn’t remember must have been a Hell of a lot of fun. Too bad most of last night was a drunken blur.

Sighing gustily, Gabriel joked, “So Balthy, strippers, binge drinking, and rampant property damage- we should hang out more often. I’d forgotten how much fun you are, especially compared to some of our other siblings.”

“Just like old times,  _Gabey_ ,” Balthazar shot back sarcastically. Gabriel scowled at the nickname as Balthazar smirked at him. Truth be told, Gabriel didn’t mind it so much; it was a name many of the fledglings used to call him back when he was a beloved older brother, not a fugitive on the run. For all of the infighting between Lucifer and Michael, his time in Heaven hadn’t been all bad. He, Balthazar, and surprisingly, Raphael, had often gotten themselves into some kind of mischief. Those were better times, long since lost.

Balthazar could sense Gabriel’s thoughts starting to take a turn for the melancholy and he refused to let the archangel brood. For all his faults, Balthazar cared deeply for his family, and now that he was reunited with his long lost brother, he wasn’t going to let more time be wasted on past regrets. He stretched out languidly, reaching for the bottle on the table beside him to pour himself a refill. “Care for some hair of the dog that bit you, Gabriel?” he teased. The seraph looked slightly green, casting a glare at the younger angel. Balthazar laughed, putting down the bottle to ask, “So, brother, what are your plans now? No more masquerading as a pagan deity, I imagine.”

“Naw, those days are behind me. Besides, most of the others know who I really am now- no chance of going back to being Loki. I guess I’ll just stick with being a Trickster, at least until my grace heals. After that, who knows?” Gabriel eyed Balthazar curiously. “What about you? Your grace is almost as bad as mine. More debauchery on the agenda? Any plans for another menage a douze?”

“Is  _that_  French for twelve? Huh, learn something new every day. And even if I did, you certainly wouldn’t be invited. I’ve already seen enough of your backside to last several lifetimes- who do you think made you cover up with the toga?”

“I’ll have you know my backside is a treasure, thank you very much,” Gabriel exclaimed as loudly as he could with his aching head. “You just need new eyes.”

“Well, I certainly do after seeing it last night. Trust me, brother, once was enough.”

“Yeah well, who asked you?” Gabriel huffed, sticking his tongue out at his little brother.

Balthazar laughed, taking another long swallow before putting his glass down and reaching for Gabriel’s forehead with two fingers. It was a testament to how hungover Gabriel was that he didn’t have a chance to react before feeling Balthazar’s grace flowing through him, chasing away the remnants of last night’s mistakes with a gentle warmth.

Rejuvenated, he pushed Balthazar’s hand away, ready to admonish him for wasting his recovering grace when he caught sight of the look of affection on his younger brother’s face. He and Balthazar had always been close, something that the time spent separated hadn’t changed. Of course, neither one was sentimental enough to bring it up, choosing instead to let it remain unspoken. Clearing his throat loudly, Gabriel said breezily, “Thanks for that, bucko. Feel better than ever. What d’ya say we don’t learn from our mistakes and hit up Reno for round two? Just like old times?”

A little shakily, Balthazar returned Gabriel’s grin with one of his own. He felt slightly dizzy, an unusual feeling for him, but one he felt with increasing regularity since using much of his grace to escape death. It would take him a few hours to recover from healing Gabriel and there was no chance he’d be flying anywhere anytime soon.

Before he could say anything, Gabriel piped up. “Come on Balthy. You ever been on a road trip? It’s one of the great human experiences.”

Smiling crookedly, Balthazar shrugged. “Sure. Reno, round two. Sounds like a plan.”

Gabriel grinned. “Alright then. Just gotta find my clothes then we can blow this popsicle stand.” He dropped the toga, his bare ass on display.

“Dammit, my eyes!”


End file.
